Hi, I’m Elizabeth Gomez and I’m freaking out. I’m freaking out for two main reasons: I’m super excited that I’m on vacation and I can’t afford to be on vacation.
I’ve been driving for several days and don’t have laptop, so I’m freaking out about the fact that I’m suppose to post today and can only provide this lousy rant as I’m typing with just two fingers. There will be no time for editing, which also freaks me out.
I guess what that means is that there are more than two reasons I’m freaking out, so let me continue. This morning I was freaking out with joy because I actually got up early at a hotel and worked out for almost an hour. That’s a good type of freaking out.
Once on the road, however, I started freaking out because I was afraid I may have left something behind at the hotel. But, we’d gone much too far to go back. Mostly, I was thinking it was my dirty panties. I most certainly was freaking out that the staff might find them and then judge me. I hate being judged.
Next, it started to rain, which made me freak out that we were going to be in a horrible car crash. Our car would be hit from behind and then our heads would come off when the car would be squeezed underneath the 18 wheeler ahead of us. Yet, I was unable to put down my salami and brie sandwich, coffee and need to change the station as I was driving. Seriously, it was Celine Dion, why is she still on the radio?
Then we finally got to Montreal and I really freaked out. I was so excited to be out of the car that now smells like funky teenager and salami sandwiches. I freaked out when I saw the little apartment we rented because it is TOO CUTE! Now, I’m freaking out because I have no idea how I’m suppose to pay for all of this.
Luckily, my Mister decide to remind me that we are in a country well known for smoked meats, poutine and the Coreys (Hart and Feldman). Which makes me freak out in a good way! And at this point, what am I going to do? Freak out?